


the room is spinning as he whispers my name

by akihiros



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Clubbing, Dancing, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, One Night Stands, Sexy Times, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 08:21:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20112046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akihiros/pseuds/akihiros
Summary: “I want you to know,” Peter starts, one hand running up the long back, the other trying the curve where hip meets waist. Johnny sighs in response and Peter continues, “I can’t dance for shit.”Peter sees Johnny dancing and freaks out a little bit.





	the room is spinning as he whispers my name

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello, new face here! I barely know where to start, but basically this is my first time posting and writing anything for Marvel. In fact, this was the first fic I've written after more than a year nursing the most horrible writer's block of my life, so please bear with me. English isn't even my first language, that means this is something absolutely new for me.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has shown me support on twitter when I was literally freaking about writing again. This one is for every single one of you for pushing me to challenge myself and actually make it. Special mention to Mina and Dai for reading this and making this possible.
> 
> This isn't beta-ed, so any mistakes you find are all on me. You can signal them to me and I will fix them in a second! Hope you enjoy my messy writing!
> 
> Title is from And We Danced by The Hooters.

The bar is crowded. And Peter doesn’t like it, but he’s doing it for Mary Jane. Harry is right there by his side, with a big smile on his face and waiting for their friend to come thank them for making it. MJ doesn’t take long, pulling up her arms and then throwing them around Harry and Peter, hugging them both at the same time. Peter can’t help but smile, and Harry laughs as they end up pressed against MJ’s neck.

“Hey, MJ,” Peter says, muffled.

“I’m so glad you could make it, boys,” MJ smiles before letting them go. She pushes a drink to each of them. Peter doubtfully looks at the fiery red liquid in his hand. Harry automatically takes it. “Have fun. These are on me though.”

“Okay. Thank you,” Harry says loudly enough to be heard over the thunderous music.

MJ disappears to keep greeting the people who has come to celebrate her new lead role on a Hollywood movie. Peter thinks the circumstance deserved a more reserved way of celebrating, but this is MJ. She’s known for making everything a big fucking party.

A circle of people is already forming in a corner of the place. MJ is still greeting everyone and talking rapidly. Peter doesn’t know half of those people. That’s what he says to Harry.

“Peter, please. Relax.” His best friend laughs and softly touches his shoulder. He sips from his drink. “It’s for MJ. You don’t have to be friendly. Just do it for your best friend.”

“Yeah, I know,” Peter sighs. He hasn’t touched his drink yet. “Big crowds, man. They make me feel... uneasy.”

“Don’t be dense, Pete. It’s just a few hours. Then you can go home. For MJ.”

“For MJ,” Peter quickly agrees. Then he drinks from his glass and makes a grimace. The liquid tastes as bad as it looks. “This is disgusting, what the hell, Har.” Harry laughs again, this time almost hysterically. Peter glares at him, then smiles as sweetly as he can manage. “Buy me a beer, man?”

Harry rolls his eyes but he quickly relents. They walk together to the bar and Harry is the one who talks to the barman. Peter leaves his almost full glass on the table and tries to forget all about it. He rests his back against the bar and looks around. Harry does the same after a few seconds, offering him a bottle of cold beer. Peter takes it and thanks him, then clinks it against Harry’s and drinks. Beer he knows the taste of, and he kinda likes it and hates it at the same time.

The night is slow. Peter talks with Harry, then with MJ when she comes to fetch more drinks for the newcomers, and then he’s all alone, because now his best friend is busy talking to a pretty brunette woman who seems very interested in what she’s hearing. Peter is happy for him. Harry deserves someone who listens to him more than anyone.

A few beers later, Peter is completely bored. Harry is still with the brunette girl, MJ is tipsy and dancing around, happy, with her fiery red hair flying around her smiling face. A woman with a bowl haircut is with her, her hands on MJ’s hips, laughing and dancing at the same compass. Peter feels out of place because he seems to be the only one who isn’t having fun.

And then Peter sees him.

The guy is with a serious looking man and a very tall woman who is laughing at anything he’s saying. He’s blond, lean, with really long legs and soft angles everywhere. He’s wearing high waisted black pants and a dark translucent button-up with flower patterns. Peter thinks he’s the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. He feels his stomach all tied up in knots.

Peter closes his hand around the beer bottle, _ hard _. The tall woman is forcing the serious man to stand up while the blond tries to pull him up by his tight black shirt, a silly smile on his face. The man relents and then he’s the biggest person in the room. He laughs softly when the blond pulls and the woman pushes him at the same time. And now they are on the dance floor, and the big hands close around that thin waist and he looks like he could easily engulf the smallest man with his body. They start to dance. The blond smiles. No, he smirks. The woman sips from her drink, looking amused and entertained.

Peter almost chokes on his own saliva trying to breathe through his mouth. Harry looks at him, worried, and Peter realizes the brunette woman isn’t there anymore. Peter clears his throat.

“You okay, Pete?” Harry asks, still sounding worried.

“Y-yeah,” he croaks. Harry raises a brow. Peter tries again. “I’m okay. The beer just went the other way.”

“You hadn’t drank from that bottle in the last five minutes, Peter,” Harry observes. Peter looks at him with his eyebrows raised. His best friend then explains himself. “Betty left and I was paying attention.” At his confusion, Harry adds, “Betty was the chick I was talking with. Are you really here, Pete?”

“Maybe,” Peter admits, and Harry looks taken aback. Peter shakes his head. “Yeah, no, I’m here. I was– I was kind of ogling a stranger and my body guilt-tripped me because of it or something like that.”

“You were ogling a stranger,” Harry repeats slowly. He copies Peter’s position and smiles, looking around the place. “Which one, man?”

Peter lets his head fall back and laughs. Harry presses his face on his shoulder. He feels like they are younger again and back in college. He misses that about them. But Harry is right there and he feels good for the first time tonight.

“The blond dancing with the big guy,” Peter says against the mouth of the bottle. Harry presses his lips together and scans the dance floor until he spots them. He smirks. Peter bites his lip and can’t help but add, “He’s hot.”

“He’s blond,” Harry says. Peter gapes at him.

“And what about it? He’s smoking hot. And look at him. He fucking _ dances_, man.”

Harry rolls his eyes and says, “You don’t know anything about how to dance, Pete.”

“You’re the worst best friend ever, Harry Osborn,” Peter responds. Harry shrugs and Peter does the same. “It’s not like I was going to do something about it. He’s way out of my league. He would laugh at me when he sees I suck at dancing. And talking. And flirting. And everything at this point.”

“Give yourself some credit, Pete,” Harry says seriously. Peter looks at him. Harry’s arm is on his shoulders now. “You’re a good man, Peter Parker. You dated beautiful people, this guy doesn’t have to be any different. You just have to be yourself.”

“Awkward? Rude? A sarcastic little shit?” Peter prompts. Harry covers his face with his free hand. “Come on, man. He’s– oh, my God.”

Harry turns around and now they _ watch _ together.

The big man came back to the tall woman and now the blond guy is dancing all by himself. The song is slow and sensual. His hips are slim and they move with a purpose. Various faces turned around to watch him. MJ is not far from him, whistling and trying to tipsily copy his moves. More girls do the same and he leads all of them with a blinding smile.

He unbuttons his blouse and runs his hand over his neck. Peter can’t help but watch the palid chest, the absence of hair, the rose nipples. The blond bites his lip and then looks up, and he catches Peter watching him, like he knew he was doing it this whole time. His eyes are gone a few seconds later, and Peter now knows they’re blue, like the sky, like the ocean. Peter feels his breath falter, his stomach full of fire, his heart bombing like crazy inside his chest.

MJ fakes to faint when the blond takes her by the hand and places a hand on her hip, making her copy his movements. The redhead tries her best and laughs when her companion does the same. MJ signals him with open arms like she’s saying _ look at him! _ when he’s back at it, all alone, the center of the dance floor, the most brilliant star in the sky.

“Okay, maybe he’s hot,” Harry admits a moment later. Peter huffs and laughs lowly. There’s a second of silence and then Harry speaks again. “And he looked at you with sex eyes.”

“What the fuck, Har? You’re nuts,” Peter replies, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. And at that exact second, the blond looks at him with the same look as before. Peter turns to Harry, an arrogant smile curving his best friend’s mouth. “Okay, maybe you’re right.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” Harry asks, his brows raised questioningly. Peter doesn’t grasp the meaning of the inquiry.

“What do you mean?” he asks in return, furrowing his brow. Harry rolls his eyes.

“You’re really the worst, huh?” Harry replies. “Go and dance with him, maybe? Then, you know, flirt with him. Charm him and then you take him home, Pete. Do you need a manual to get laid?”

A man lets out a soft laugh by their side. Harry and Peter turn around to watch him. The man in question has his hair done in a mohawk, dark almond eyes and a line of all black tattoos running from his clavicle to his left wrist. He’s sporting a knowing smile while he softly swishes his martini with a hand of black painted nails.

“Your friend is right though,” the man says, “if you don’t do anything about that doll right there, I’m going to have to make my own move. He’s hot and looks like fun.”

Peter gapes at him for a few seconds and the man raises his intense stare to the blond, who is still dancing. The man bites his lip and raises his drink at Peter when he turns to look at him, like he’s sharing the toast for the blond with Peter.

What the hell.

Peter turns around and urges the barman to bring him another beer. His is now warm after all the ogling. The mohawk man laughs.

“Beer, man?” he asks, clicking his tongue. Peter raises a brow at him. The man shakes his head. “The doll looks too elegant for that. A Cosmo is a better option.”

Peter looks at him for long seconds and then signals the barman for the Cosmo. Mohawk man smiles, pleased. He comes back to his martini and Peter forgets about him once the drink is on his hand. Peter quickly places a bill on the bar and turns around. Then he walks decidedly to the blond, a man on a mission.

“Hey, you look like you could have a drink,” Peter says and instantly feels like an idiot.

The blond stops in his place and looks at him. His eyes are so blue Peter thinks he could easily be lost in them. The man relaxes and smiles, pleased, and accepts the drink with long fingers who barely caress Peter’s when he catches the glass.

“Thank you…” He looks at him expectantly and Peter quickly understands he’s asking for a name.

“Peter,” he replies, “I’m Peter.”

“Thank you, Peter,” the blond says with a smile, trying the name on his tongue, and Peter’s breath falters again. He carefully sips from the Cosmo and moans weakly, his eyes closed. Peter pants feel tighter than a second ago. The blond opens his eyes. “I’m Johnny. Come here. Dance with me.”

_ Johnny, _Peter tries, and he likes it.

The tall woman is right there next to them in an instant, taking the drink Johnny offers to her. Peter feels hurt, but then both hands are on his shoulders, soft fingers grazing the skin of his neck. Peter can’t help but take a handful of those slim hips, the exposed chest against his, the soft fabric of the blouse making the touch almost electrifying. Johnny touches his cheek with his lips, they are open in a silent sigh.

“I want you to know,” Peter starts, one hand running up the long back, the other trying the curve where hip meets waist. Johnny sighs in response and Peter continues, “I can’t dance for shit.”

Johnny laughs, and he’s beautiful. He bites his plush bottom lip. Peter feels the blond’s hand come up until he touches the back of his neck, the end of his hair on his nape.

“Don’t worry, _ Pete _,” Johnny says. He leans up and breathes hot on Peter’s ear. “Just follow my lead.”

And Johnny’s hips touch his and Peter feels like his chest is about to explode. He presses his fingers on Johnny’s waist when he starts moving, curving against him, a line of fire against his body. One of the blond’s legs is between both of Peter’s and the next move makes his knee touch his crotch.

“_Oh_,” Peter moans against Johnny’s neck and kisses the skin there. Johnny replies with another curve of his body against Peter’s and now it’s his turn to moan when one of Peter’s hands slips to his ass. “Oh, my God.”

“Yeah,” Johnny purrs. Peter is barely moving. He can’t dance, but his body is doing all the work on its own. His hand closes on the blond’s ass, but that’s entirely on him. Johnny’s knee presses against his crotch once again, his lips on Peter’s cheek, hot breath warming his skin. “Kiss me now.”

Peter forgets about ever wanting to leave this place. He leans back enough to look at Johnny, his cheeks two rose spots on his face, his parted lips waiting for him, his hand clamped on his neck. Peter leans in and engulfs Johnny’s full lips with his own. Johnny almost melts on his arms. He opens his mouth for Peter’s tongue and Peter goes for it.

Johnny moans and pushes his hand up Peter’s hair, holding his head in its place while they kiss. Peter’s tongue pokes everywhere in the blond’s mouth, and one of his hands is now running up the patch of naked skin on Johnny’s front, where his blouse is still unbuttoned. He first presses his fingers on his clavicles and then fully closes it around Johnny’s neck, softly, barely there. They don’t stop dancing. Or Johnny is the only one dancing and Peter is following his moves, too immersed in the kiss to care if he’s any good.

The blond moans softly and breaks the kiss when Peter tightens just a bit the fingers on his neck. Johnny bites his bottom lip and inclines his head a bit to the side, closing his eyes when Peter tightens his fingers again, this time a little bit harder. Peter’s blood rushes south at the picture in front of him.

“You like that?” he barely asks in the rush of the kiss, the loud music still pounding through his ears and the entirety of his body. Johnny licks his lips and silently nods. “Shit,” Peter murmurs, “we’re supposed to be dancing.”

“We are,” Johnny replies. He caresses Peter’s hair with one hand, his other on his shoulder. Peter wants to kiss him again. So he does. Johnny is pliant under his mouth, and Peter presses him against his body, every line of Johnny against him like wildfire. The blond looks at him when he breaks the kiss, now more sober. “I can’t believe it took you so long to approach me.”

“I’m sorry, I’m an idiot,” Peter admits. Johnny laughs and kisses him softly. “You looked so good on the dance floor. My first thought was I wouldn’t stand a chance with you. Also, the big guy dancing with you? Kind of stomped all my hopes down.”

“Who? Wyatt?” Johnny asks, amused. A silly smile curves his lips. “I wouldn’t try anything with him. Tall woman right there is Jen, and she would kick my ass in an instant if I touch his fiancé. The problem is I do want to, but hey, they are my best friends, I totally wouldn’t.”

“Okay, that’s– that’s okay,” Peter admits, clearing his throat. Johnny looks at him. They’re talking and dancing, this is all kinds of nice, Peter thinks. He moves his hands to Johnny’s lower back, because he doesn’t think the choking is appropriate now. Johnny smiles knowingly. “So, you were looking at me.”

“Yeah,” Johnny nods, “and you didn’t realize after like… ten tries of me eye-fucking you at the same level as you were eye-fucking me.”

“I’m sorry, I’m awkward and lonely and can’t realize when a hot blond is trying to catch my attention swinging his hips for everyone around him.” Peter rolls his eyes.

“We’re here now, aren’t we?” Johnny asks. Peter nods. “Then it worked. Can’t complain.”

“I actually cannot,” Peter says.

He looks at Johnny; his relaxed face, his high cheekbones, his long lashes, the piercing on his left earlobe, glinting with the lights of the place. Peter wants to kiss him, but he also wants to kiss his neck, take his clothes off, mark his skin with his mouth, press Johnny’s back against his front while he pistons his hips and holds him by the neck and makes him whine and moan. Oh, Lord.

“What are you thinking about?” Johnny inquiries him. Peter tightens his hands on his lower back. He presses his face on the blond’s neck, kisses him there, and then pushes him down on him, his thigh on Peter’s crotch. Johnny moans. He moves again, and again, and Peter is about to lose his mind. “Oh, my God.” Johnny looks at him, his blue eyes almost entirely black now. “You’re so hard.”

“So clever,” Peter groans. A few seconds later he almost jumps when he feels Johnny’s hand against his fly, his palm shaping his dick over the fabric of his pants. He bites his lip to repress a needy moan. Peter tries to compose himself before speaking again. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Why? Are you going to fuck me right here?” Johnny provokes. Peter thinks about fucking him, _ again _, but he doesn’t like the idea of doing it in front of a crowd. Johnny takes a single look at his face and smirks. “So, no public sex kink. What a shame,” he pouts. He clicks his tongue and raises a brow. “Your place or mine?”

“Mine is closer,” Peter answers quickly, feeling a bit short of air.

“I see you’ve met one of my coworkers, Peter,” a feminine voice says behind them. Peter lets Johnny go, but he doesn’t go far away, they stay close enough to touch. MJ is smiling when they turn around to look at her. Peter drops his hands to protect his crotch from her. She rolls her eyes and waves a hand around. “Don’t even try to hide it, everyone saw you’ve got a hard-on the second Johnny touched you.”

“Cool,” Peter bites. MJ smiles, this time more softly.

“That’s my best friend right there who you’re dealing with, Storm,” MJ warns, and she’s looking at Johnny now.

“Yeah, I know,” Johnny replies, “maybe I came here to finally meet him and not to celebrate your brilliant success, Ms. Watson.”

“Couldn’t expect less from you, Johnny Storm,” MJ says, rolling her eyes. She now looks at Peter. “He saw a pic of us on my phone and thought you’re cute. I knew you would like him, too. A lot, now it seems.”

“Don’t ask,” Johnny says when Peter turns to look at him with curiosity.

“But hey, Tiger,” MJ says, “have fun.”

“Thank you, MJ,” Peter smiles. MJ kisses his cheek and punches Johnny softly on the shoulder before leaving. Peter pushes his hands down his pockets. “So.”

“Oh, don’t be coy now.” Johnny rolls his eyes. “You said something about your place being closer and I’m holding you to it. So lead the way.”

Peter turns around to look at the bar, where he knows he’s going to find his best friend. Harry is next to the mohawk man and they’re smiling at Peter, like they know what’s going to happen after presencing all the show. Mohawk man raises his drink in Peter’s direction like he’s saying _ good job, man _, and Harry throws both thumbs up. Peter can’t help but smile.

“Well, let’s get out of here,” Peter says.

And Johnny follows him out of the bar.

–

Peter wakes up to an empty bed and sunshine filtering through the curtains of his room. He feels extremely tired, like he just run a marathon before going straight to sleep. But it wasn’t that at all. It was Johnny. Super hot and completely good in bed Johnny. Peter lets out a groan when he’s reminded of what they’ve been up to since they got to Peter’s apartment when he moves around the bed and all his bones make a _ crack _ sound.

He feels disappointment bubbling inside his chest, like he was expecting Johnny to be there, next to him, with his sunshine hair all spread over his stray pillow, the sheets tangled on his body, just a few centimeters away for Peter to touch his warm skin, the red marks he left on his neck, the soft lips he couldn’t stop kissing and biting the whole night, his soft smile more beautiful than ever.

The intense smell of coffee wakes him up entirely. The clock strikes 11 a.m. and Peter realizes it’s the first night he has fully rested. He usually wakes up at 8 a.m. sharp because he’s bored and sometimes tired of trying to sleep through eight hours straight like any normal person. _ Johnny did that to me _, he thinks, and he smiles softly.

Peter finally gets out of bed and goes straight to the bathroom. When he’s finished, he opens the door and Johnny is right there, with one hand raised like he was about to knock and the other holding a mug of steamy looking coffee.

He’s wearing Peter’s shirt with a James Dean wearing glasses and the words ‘NERDS ARE HOT’ MJ gifted to him –and Peter knows he left the ugly thing on his nightstand before going out last night–, and the black boxers he remembers aggressively stripping off of Johnny when he was too desperate to keep waiting.

“Good morning,” Johnny says, a bit unsure, like he is thinking Peter is mad that he’s still here. So funny. The blond clears his throat. “I wasn’t sure if you would care if I prepare breakfast for you, so I brought you coffee. I’m sorry if that’s not what you want, I just–”

And Peter can’t take it, not kissing him, not kissing the doubt away from his face. He takes a step forward and catches Johnny by his waist, pressing his body against his to kiss him. Johnny makes a surprised noise but he relaxes in a matter of seconds, resting his arms on Peter’s shoulders, the mug away from him so as not to burn him.

“Morning,” Peter says after he lets Johnny go. He accepts the mug this time and smiles shyly. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” Johnny smiles in response. And he’s blindingly beautiful, all soft angles and red marks dotting up his neck, Peter’s shirt two sizes too big for him, just because Peter can’t imagine him wearing not-too-tight clothes. Johnny was made to show off every single curve of his beautiful body. “I hope you don’t mind me stealing one of your shirts. It was on your nightstand and my blouse is– well, you know.”

Yeah, Peter knows. And he has the decency of blushing about the accident. Johnny’s blouse is ruined. He pulled it too hard and he ripped a few buttons off and part of the neck of the thing. Johnny looked at him with a mix of anger and excitement. He promised to buy him a new one between kisses and bites.

“I’m sorry about that, I really am,” Peter apologises again. Johnny’s face actually softens, like he doesn’t care. At least he didn’t last night, Peter thinks.

“It’s okay,” Johnny says softly. He wraps his hand around the back of Peter’s neck and pushes him down to kiss him, the taste of the coffee mixing between their mouths. This kiss is brief though, Johnny leaning back after a few seconds. “So, I was making breakfast… Hope you like pancakes.”

“I do,” Peter nods. Johnny hooks one of his index fingers around the hem of his old Star Wars t-shirt and pulls, guiding Peter through his hallway until they are in his kitchen.

Johnny makes Peter sit down on one of the tall chairs and places a big plate with a little pile of pancakes. Peter can’t remember when was the last time he consumed something other than coffee for breakfast. He takes the bottle of syrup while he looks at Johnny, who is in front of the stove, a pan sizzling where he’s cooking more pancakes.

Peter watches him, _ really _watches him. He looks down the blond’s back, looks at the long legs, covered in a thin layer of blond hair, and he finds the marks he left on the back of his thighs. Peter bites his lip, remembering the way Johnny has held his legs up for him, the keening noises he’s made while Peter kissed and bit his skin and touched him everywhere Johnny wanted to be touched.

“Oh, shit,” he curses when he realizes he dropped half the bottle of syrup all over his pancakes. Johnny turns around and raises his eyebrows when he finds the mess Peter made. Peter curses again. “This is what happens when you ogle people, Peter Parker,” he mutters to himself.

“Are you okay?” Johnny asks. Peter nods reluctantly and looks at his pancakes. Johnny lets out a soft laugh. “Don’t worry, I can eat those. Here.”

He comes next to Peter with another plate full of recently made pancakes. Johnny places it in front of Peter, pushing the other plate a bit to the side.

“Thank you,” Peter says. Johnny smiles again. Peter knows this should feel weird, a man who you’ve hooked-up with shouldn’t make you breakfast. But Johnny is there and he smiles at Peter, and Peter feels like he would like it if he wakes up to this every day.

“I should leave in a bit,” Johnny announces, turning off the stove and sitting down in front of Peter. Peter swallows sharply. Johnny doesn’t see his expression because he takes the first plate and starts eating the pancakes Peter ruined. Finally, Johnny looks up. “I had a good time last night.” He bites his bottom lip. “I was right when I said to MJ that you seemed to be good in bed.”

Peter chokes on the piece of pancake he’s chewing. He hurries to drink from his mug of coffee while Johnny hides his smirk behind his hand.

“Okay, o-okay,” Peter croaks. He looks at Johnny. “You– you were good, too. It was– it was pretty good.” Probably the best night of my life, Peter thinks.

“Cool,” Johnny says.

They finish eating breakfast while they talk about trivial details from their lives. Johnny once worked with MJ in a play and they instantly hit it off. They’re good friends since then. Peter tells him MJ was his neighbor for most of his life, that they dated when they were younger, but then life happened. He talks to Johnny about Aunt May and Johnny tells him about his nephew and niece, and his older sister, his brother-in-law and his best friend.

The clock hits 12:15 p.m. when Johnny reminds him he has to leave. Peter and Johnny go together to Peter’s room, and Peter is fetching his phone from his forgotten pants when Johnny takes off Peter’s nerdy shirt and he is now half naked on the other side of his bed.

Johnny is oblivious to Peter’s internal monologue. He bends down to pick up his clothes and then drops them on the bed. Johnny glares at Peter when he takes his ruined blouse. Peter lets out an embarrassing groan. Johnny laughs.

“Take my shirt with you,” Peter offers when he sees Johnny trying to make the blouse work on him. He looks up at Peter when he speaks. “Please, do it. It’s okay. A shirt for a shirt, right?”

“I accept the truce just because this is James Dean wearing glasses,” Johnny says. He drops the blouse and puts on the nerdy shirt again. Then he does the same with his tight pants. And he finishes to get dressed tying his boots. He looks kind of silly, but he’s still beautiful. “I will give it back to you eventually.”

“Yeah,” Peter nods. He clears his throat while Johnny fixes his already perfect hair with one of his hands. He speaks again, “We could go out. Together. You and me. For coffee or–”

“Like a date?” Johnny interrupts him, looking expectantly at him. Peter feels his tongue all tied up inside his mouth, and Johnny slowly smiles. He walks up to him until he’s right in front of Peter. “Do you mind?”

Johnny extends one of his hands and Peter rests his phone on his palm. He fishes through Peter’s phone for a minute and then gives it back.

“Call me,” Johnny says, and it’s not a question.

He fists Peter shirt and pulls him closer, kissing him hard. Peter almost stumbles, but he quickly places his hands on Johnny’s hips to stand right. They kiss like it’s the last time they’re going to see each other, even though Peter knows that’s not the case, because he already knows he’s going to call the hell out of Johnny the instant he misses him.

“You could call me, too,” Peter replies when Johnny breaks the kiss to readjust himself, linking his arms around Peter’s neck and now one of his thighs is warm under Peter’s hand and against his hip. Peter’s other hand is on Johnny’s head, the blond curls tangling around his fingers. Peter presses his nose against Johnny’s cheek. “Fuck, you’re so hot, Johnny Storm.”

“Right back at you, Peter Parker,” Johnny says. They finally break the kiss, not before Johnny catches Peter’s bottom lip between his teeth and bites down, softly, barely there. A little reminder of the time he did the same last night while Peter pounded inside his body. Peter sighs at the memory. “I should really go now. My family don’t know where I am since last night.”

“Yeah, okay,” Peter nods. He lets Johnny go. “What do you think about next Saturday?”

“Good for me,” Johnny says, “I’ll give you the address when I think about a place. We could have dinner, too.”

“Anything you want,” Peter says.

“Okay, good. Uh, would you…?” Johnny prompts.

Peter nods his head dumbly. He accompanies Johnny to his apartment door and opens it for him. Johnny kisses him again and Peter is tempted to close the door and press Johnny against it to have his way with him one more time. But he only smiles.

“See you later,” Johnny says.

“Yeah, see you,” Peter replies. Johnny looks at him one last time and then he leaves. Peter closes the door. His phone vibrates on his hand a few seconds later, showing him an unknown number has sent him a message.

_ ‘Anything I want, Peter Parker? I’m holding you to it.’ _

Peter can’t help but smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think about this in a comment, a kudo or come yell at me about Peter and Johnny and Marvel in general on twitter @SPIDEYT0RCH
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


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